


Throne of Ash, Crown of Flame

by tomfoolery14



Series: how art thou fallen from heaven [2]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Also the rating may change if that's the direction it goes, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Boys In Love, How to Make Friends and Influence Demons basically, Immortal Husbands, M/M, Might add more characters as we go along but I'm not sure, Prince Consort Alec, Prince of Hell Magnus Bane, While this diverges from canon going forward and some retrospective it still holds onto most canon, post 3x19
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-19
Updated: 2019-09-03
Packaged: 2020-05-14 23:34:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19283476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tomfoolery14/pseuds/tomfoolery14
Summary: After having no choice but to destroy his father in order to protect humanity, Magnus ascends to the throne of Edom with Alec at his side. Not everyone is willing to be complacent, however--among his opposition for the crown are Lilith and Azazel. What will it take to bring some kind of peace to the realm?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So I originally just wrote a little drabble after 3x18/19 about this but after some interest cropped up, I decided to try to expand it. And then the plan was just to make it a mega one shot but I think a multichapter setup is going to better serve the story. So this is a bit of trial and error, so bear with me lol Since it is canon divergent however, taking a second to read the first part in this series, The Way the House of the Father Falls, is important for establishing the foundations of this piece.
> 
> I'm not sure yet what the update schedule will be, so check out my [tumblr](http://royaltybane.tumblr.com) for information as it comes
> 
> Tweet your thoughts as you read with #toacoffic

With Magnus’ ascension to Edom’s reigning monarch, demons from all throughout the realm came to pledge their fidelity and devotion. They would bend to him out of fear, and the respect born of it.

_Magnus Bane killed his father,_ spread like wildfire in guttural whispers with gnashing of teeth. _A prince of hell, destroyed by his own seed._ The verity of Asmodeus’ demise was known only by Magnus—even Alec didn’t truly know what looked back at him when he faced his lover.      

His intentions were clear, his resolve even more so—when the kingdom was under his rule, it would cease to be what Asmodeus had made it. The death of the only monarch Edom had ever known sent the message of change loud and clear, even to those who had no desire to kneel to Magnus Bane.

The existence of the prince consort also did nothing to ease the tension; if anything, it caused more dissention. Nothing could exist in Edom that didn’t have demon blood, and Alec was no exception. A ritual had to be done, one that called upon a darkness that he didn’t even fully comprehend. It was analogous to the process of a vampire’s transformation—blood was given and taken, reinforced with very old magic performed with the utmost precision.

Alec Lightwood, an enigma if ever there was one.

The lesser demons of Edom feared him, even though his shadowhunter’s blood was still of him and within him. He was an outsider, and yet it wasn’t to his disadvantage. He sat at the right hand of the prince and fought at his side as if he had always belonged there. Their power, both individually and united, was unparalleled, made the protests of their subjects remain as such.

Lilith, of course, was leading the charge of opposition. She had resented Asmodeus’ rule ever since it had begun—particularly having been his lover once upon a time—and now begrudged Magnus the title of monarch. Patience was never a word used to describe the mother of all demons, particularly when it came to the ever-elusive title she coveted.

“The prodigal son has returned to the house of his father,” she purred upon entering his domain. She stood politely just inside the entryway, currently content to adhere to etiquette. The throne demanded required reverence, from all and so far she was willing to play along and pay her due.

Magnus was nowhere near placated, however. It wasn’t a question of if but rather when she would begin to resist him directly. Resting his elbow on the arm of the onyx throne, his forefinger pressed against the cut of his jawline and tapped pensively. “It’s no longer the house of my father. As such, I require that visitors knock and be welcomed inside before entering.”

Her replying smile was tight and forced, the corners of her mouth particularly sharp points. “My apologies, your majesty.” The venom in her intent was perfectly clear, but Magnus refused to be baited into bad behavior. “I just came to offer my formal greeting; it has been quite some time since you last graced Edom with your presence.”

“Admittedly I had no intention of returning.” Magnus let his crossed leg drop down, both feet planted on the floor, and leaned towards her. “But you and I both know that’s not what interests you about the fact that I am in fact here.”

Lilith looked down at her hands, a shapeless ball of dark orange energy held in the palm of her hand. She grinned slightly as she looked down at it, as if observing a pet that entertained her. “You’ve got the same appetite for frankness that your father does. Oh, excuse me— _did_.”

With a wry chuckle, Magnus got to his feet and slowly descended from the dais on which his throne sat. “Some things are unavoidably hereditary, and we never forgive our parents for it. You’re no stranger to that sentiment given your…chaotic relationship with Jonathan.”

“I told your shadowhunters that I was going to kill him myself.” Her magic grew brighter, more indignant.

“You threatened to do the same to me some time before that, I recall. Had you not feared the retaliation of my father,” Magnus pointed out. “And yet, here we are. Edom is now mine to command as is my birthright.”

Extinguishing the magic in her hand, Lilith moved towards Magnus slowly, keeping her eyes on him unblinkingly. “Silly little prince, you think you can just waltz in and take over. You are more like your father than I thought you were.” She was challenging him, and he knew it, but something in his gut burned hot at her words. “I am the mother of demons. You’re just the bastard of a fallen angel.”

Forcing his palm out sharply, a burst of red forced her back and unsteadied her. “You forget it was my magic that kept you caged. My father couldn’t do it without my power.”

“Your power alone couldn’t hold me, Magnus. Don’t make empty threats—you only embarrass yourself.”

Magnus pursed his lips coldly. “I hope you’re not making threats to your prince.”

He could practically see the way her eyes grew steely with hatred, and the hand at her side was once again ablaze with magic. Magnus’ reflexes were quicker though, and the hand he thrust out in front of him sent her flying back against the wall.

“You insufferable little halfblood,” Lilith hissed, words spewing like venom from her mouth. “You’re only half of your father, only half of his greatness. The rest of you is merely mortal, easy to crush and destroy. You don’t know what you’re starting, but I promise you’ll be seeing it through.” With that, she turned and stalked out, disappearing with an inhuman shriek as she shifted into her demon figure.

Magnus sighed tiredly, extinguishing the lingering angry sparks on his fingers.

“I can’t say that’s a surprise,” Alec’s voice came from one of the long, empty hallways off the main chamber. A blade stained with demon ichor was clenched in his right hand, dripping the foul smelling liquid on his boots. His hair was windswept and patches of his skin were smeared with the blood-colored dirt native to Edom.

Magnus smiled to himself, pushing aside his concern in favor of doting on his beloved. “Hardly,” he agreed before dismissing the topic from their conversation. “How was the hunt?”

Alec let his blade clatter to the ground followed by his singed jacket as came to him. “There’s a new pack of Edomai causing trouble. The ones I could flush out I took care of.”

“Of course you did, angel.” Clearing the distance left between them with confident strides, Magnus took his face in his hands and kissed him full on the mouth. Alec’s lips tasted faintly of smoke, a taste he was becoming accustomed to here in Edom. With the distinct taste of Alec beneath it, however, it was something he could certainly come to love. “Why don’t you get cleaned up, I’ll join you in our chambers soon.”

Leaning in for a placating kiss, Alec hummed. “Don’t be long.”

“I wouldn’t dare.” As soon as Alec had disappeared into their room, Magnus turned back to face the throne room. The spidery cracks in the wall where Lilith had collided with it felt like an ominous sign of things to come.

Whether it would be believed by others or not, Magnus had no intentions of ever starting a war over the throne when he ascended. Asmodeus had said without question that Magnus was meant to be his heir, the ruler at his side; it was in his blood. Edom would fall to chaos without their constant that was Asmodeus. It was his realm from its inception. A mad scramble for the throne still seemed imminent, however, even with Magnus on the throne, and if they forced his hand, intervention would be unavoidable.

And if Lilith stoked the fire, war would be on the horizon soon.

With a wave of his hand, Magnus sealed the cracks in the blood red stone then turned his back on it. _Not tonight_ , he said to himself, locking the dark thoughts away for the time being as he strode down to his personal chambers.

It was a beautiful sight to behold to see Alec spread comfortably on the black silk sheets with an arm behind his head. He looked so peaceful, and it made Magnus’ heart swell in his chest to the point where it felt as though it might burst through his ribcage. How beautiful it was to see an angel in the midst of destruction, somehow happy and at peace.

Magnus had spent centuries dreading the moment between one heartbeat and the next where his lover’s expression would twist into something sour at the reminder of his true nature. Shame and dread were familiar emotions for him, and it kept him from letting anyone into his life for a long time. But then Alec happened, blazing across the night sky like a shooting star that made the world appear brand new.

Truth be told, he’d never expected Alec to follow him to Edom—and perhaps hadn’t wanted him to for a time. When Asmodeus was destroyed, Magnus knew he had no choice but to return to the house of his father, but he couldn’t bear the thought of Alec following. If he were utterly selfish, he would ask Alec to come with him and rule at his side, but the thought had gnawed at him most terribly. It was proven all in vain, however, when Alec stood at Magnus’ side as he faced the portal. “I’m going with you, Magnus. No questions asked,” he had said, as if it were that simple. The thought of an angel blooded creature on the barren sands of Edom filled Magnus with concern—what corruption would overtake his love? What warped version of his fiancé would he find at his side? Most of all, though, Magnus wondered what kind of person it would make him if he were truly willing to gamble the risk.

And yet, none of that ever mattered as soon as they set foot in the dusty barons of Edom. After only a few nights in their new personal chambers, Alec appeared as comfortable as he had back in the loft in Brooklyn. While it was a touching sentiment that admittedly made Magnus weak in the knees, Alec’s wholehearted belief that he could call anywhere home as long as Magnus was at his side appeared to be the truth.

“Hey,” Alec murmured softly, his arm behind his head like a pillow.

Magnus smiled with an affectionate shake of his head. “Hi.”

Leaning up on his elbows, Alec gave him a questioning stare. “What are you looking at me like that for?”

It didn’t seem like something he could verbalize, nor did he feel up to the challenge of poetry, so Magnus just walked over to him and offered his hands. “Edom is never a place I wanted you to have to follow me to, but having you here not as my captive but as my content and loving companion means more to me than you will ever know. To see you look so at peace here is a unique joy.”

Alec squeezed his fingers firmly, bringing Magnus’ knuckles to his lips. He took his time kissing over each ridge and ring with warm, smooth lips, and when he’d finished, he looked up at him. “I meant it when I said it, Magnus. You’re the only one I will ever love as long as I live. Where else am I going to be if not with you?” Carefully Alec pressed against Magnus, forehead anchored just below his chest, and the feeling of Magnus’ fingers in his hair made him hum contentedly.

To feel the man he loved against him, so utterly alive even in this most desolate place, was the greatest gift Magnus could imagine. Bending down to press a kiss to the top of Alec’s head, he couldn’t help but savor the scent of his shampoo “You smell divine.” Beneath it was the unavoidable smell of Edom ash, but it was easy enough to ignore.

“I think I got most of the ichor off,” Alec replied, pressing a casual kiss to the jut of Magnus’ rib cage before leaning back. His grip tightened, tugging Magnus forward.

The momentum was enough to make Magnus’ knees buckle slightly, and he ended up hovering above Alec with his knees bracketing Alec’s thighs on the mattress and his hands anchored to Alec’s shoulders. “What do you want, pretty boy? What can I give you?”

Leaning back and taking Magnus with him, Alec laid himself out on his back and laced their fingers together above his head. “I just want you.”

It began innocently enough, languid kisses that were equal parts give and take, but soon their bodies began to move in tandem with one another to chase the sparks of pleasure that came from just the right amount of friction in just the right place. Alec squeezed Magnus’ fingers tightly and a moan escaped his lips only to be swallowed by Magnus, as well as a faint “Please.” Magnus shifted slightly, changing the angle of their movements and dialing up the pleasure from amazing to unparalleled. There was molten heat pooling low in Magnus’ stomach, and a strangled sound of pleasure left his mouth unbidden. The heat between their bodies was mounting, but paled in comparison to the sudden rush of release that passed between them, growing from within their bodies and intertwining like vines that connected them. And when Magnus opened his eyes, he realized it was more than an illusion—strands of delicate gold magic ensnared them and encased them like a second skin that made them a new organism.

Alec seemed to feel his gaze and slowly opened his eyes to look into bright gold cat’s eyes. “That still strokes my ego, I have to say,” he admitted with a grin, looking at the delicate tendrils that held him.

Magnus’ magic had always loved Alexander from the first moment they touched, _truly_ touched. When Alec shared his strength with him to save Luke, his magic was intimately connected to another human being for the first time in a very long time, and there were feelings evoked in him that he didn’t know he could still feel. Every time after, Magnus experienced a magnetic kind of pull every time Alec was near him; it recognized him and reached for him. And then it was his wards that started to respond to his presence too. Anyone else would be repelled if they ventured too close without permission, but not Alec—he was embraced by them, enveloped safely and welcomed. The greatest surprise for Magnus, however, was that when they were intimate and his guard was down, rather than being poised to protect him, his magic seeped out of him in search of bringing Alec closer. It wanted him as fervently as Magnus himself did, yearned for the relief only Alec could offer.

The fact that it was completely involuntary delighted Alec with the same kind of unbridled delight of a child, and Magnus couldn’t help but be helplessly endeared. Alec took pride in the fact that he could coax Magnus’ glamour down, draw out sudden bursts of intense, unfocused power, and cause beautifully unexplained magical phenomena with nothing more than a precisely placed or timed touch. To render someone so effected, so vulnerable was something he never took lightly, though. It was rare for Magnus to feel safe in the knowledge that he was falling for someone because it forced him to trust that he wouldn’t be left to shatter into a million pieces when they disappeared, but with Alec, the thought really never crossed his mind.

“Ask and you shall receive,” Magnus practically purred, taking advantage of the double entendre and pressing down purposefully against the solid form below him. “I love nothing more than—”

Kissing him quiet with a groan, Alec dragged his fingers up Magnus’ back following the path of his spine. “I handed you that one.”

“I couldn’t resist, Alexander. You know that.” After one more moment of indulgence, Magnus carefully rolled off of him and began to strip off his clothes for bed. The dry heat of Edom in a home environment with no roof, given his father’s baffling sense of architectural preference, made for very warm nights, so he opted for just his underwear. An added bonus of being nearly nude was the pleasant sensation of silk sheets gliding across his bare skin when he slid into bed beside Alec.

After a brief re-fluffing of the pillows, Alec settled back and waited for Magnus to lie down against him, back to chest with Magnus’ arm draped comfortingly over his side. He had told Magnus once that after he got accustomed to sharing a bed with him, it became increasingly impossible to fall asleep without him. Magnus empathized. “I love you,” Alec mumbled sleepily, voice muffled but still discernable. “See you in the morning.”

Magnus pressed a soft kiss to the back of Alec’s neck. “I love you, too. Sweet dreams, _berharga_.” It was such a small and simple thing, goodnight-and-I-love-you, but it was part of their routine now, something they always shared every night without fail.

It didn’t take long for Alec’s quiet snores to fill the silence, white noise to Magnus. He shifted slightly on his side and looked up at the sky as he counted the seconds between each breath Alec took. Everything in Edom was dark and dense, particularly the deep red sky and its dark clouds. The occasional flash of lightning punctuated an otherwise uneventful weather system—all a marked difference from Brooklyn. From home. He used to find comfort in the idea that when nothing else was certain, he could look up at the sky and it would always be blue, and now even that was gone. Sometimes he really missed the inevitability of New York, of the mundane world, and tonight in particular he found himself missing the stars that he used to count and trace into familiar constellation patterns. Everything was changing, and where things would end he was certain of yet.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is still a bit of a leap of faith kind of project, but I'm working on getting my outline sorted enough to determine how many chapters this piece will end up being. Hope you enjoy this next chapter! If livetweeting your reading experience tickles your fancy, you can use the hashtag #toacoffic on twitter!

The morning light in Edom was the same as at any other time of day, dim and distinctly red, when Magnus awoke. He missed the natural gold sunlight of home, he thought to himself as he rubbed at his eyes to clear away the sleep. But this was where he needed to be, and how bad could it be with Alec at his side?

He rolled over to look at his sleeping lover, peaceful with his features soft and relaxed. The faint little wrinkle on his forehead was smooth, but Magnus still pressed a purposeful kiss where it was located. The quiet snores that emanated from him were still endearing, even after all this time—maybe always would be, even.

Carefully extracting himself from the bed sheets, Magnus got up and put on his long silk robe in deep ruby red and shut the bedroom door softly behind him as he started down the hall.

It looked endless, as he was sure Asmodeus had intended, lined with abstract art pieces clearly not created by mundanes. There was an inherent quality of magic weaved into the materials used, visible only to the eye of a powerful being with demon blood—it warped the image like there was something alive running beneath it. He’d seen this kind of display only a few times in his life, as not only did it require a powerful being to see but also often encased dark magic that needed to be handled with care.

Stopping in his tracks, Magnus reached out to press his palm to one of the large canvases, bleeding dark red and orange right up to the edges. It was his childhood in Indonesia, the village he grew up in, swallowed in blood and fire.

It was a gift from Asmodeus during his time at his right hand as a young warlock; a reward for the unspeakable darkness that he embraced in an attempt to leverage a father’s love. Asmodeus had called it an immortalization of the greatness he was capable of from the start, praised like an innocent victory. The darkness of the magic imbued fed on the devastation of the act itself, an ouroboros of despair. It was meant to be incentive for Magnus to follow the path laid out for him, but instead had acted as the catalyst for his reformation.

As he looked at it now, it held no significance. He was no longer the child that feared it, or the young man who resented it. After a moment of consideration, bright orange flame emanated from his palm and engulfed the piece. When the two traces of magic met, they appeared to war with one another, becoming ensnared, but with a bit more force exerted, Magnus forced his magic through to devour it. The black scorch left behind was the only indication that it had ever been there at all.

Continuing down the hall, he eventually came to the end where a glass box sat on a dais. Inside was a single feather, about two feet long and three inches wide. It was battered, bent in a few different places and yellowed with age and wear. There were several bald patches along either side of it as well, and some black stains littered along the grain—tainted angel blood. It was the last feather in existence of his Asmodeus’ angel wings after they were ripped from his back before he was cast down.

Preserving something he clearly resented only served one purpose: to ensure he never forgot where he came from. Standing in his father’s house, now his own, Magnus could understand better than he ever had before. The past follows and makes you, whether you choose to resist or relent to its lesson.

After all, here he was in Edom, like his father had schemed and plotted and manipulated to make possible, but it was on his own terms. He didn’t have any reason to fear losing himself because he knew who he was and knew what he was doing here. All the times he had been afraid of what part of himself might get lost along the way if he let himself get too close to Edom, to the opposing piece that fit there, were in the past.

Looking at the glass, he saw his cat’s eyes reflected back at him. And he smiled.

Once Alec awoke, his melancholy mood dissipated quickly. Particularly following an exquisitely tender good morning kiss. “You have a serious face on,” he pointed out with a playful pout.

“Heavy is the head that wears the crown, yes? A familiar phrase for the Lightwoods,” Magnus replied with a smile of reassurance.

Alec leaned forward, elbows on his knees, and took Magnus’ face in his hands. For a moment, he just looked at him with inquisitive eyes.

Magnus had quickly learned that Alec was a visual person, and what’s more, he was an affection-starved visual person who had never had the luxury of indulging himself. On their first few dates, there were numerous times when he caught Alec just looking at him with this soft kind of wonder, and he’d just known by seeing that expression that this was something he’d never had before. As they learned to open up to one another, to unravel their histories to lay bare, he explained just how ashamed he had been made to feel about his attraction to men growing up in the Institute, how he was afraid to look for too long for fear that someone would see and _know_ , but that Magnus made it safe for him to do something as simple as look.

He was delightfully surprised when Alec used his position to pull Magnus in close and press a lingering kiss to his temple. “You’ve got a fucking gorgeous mind.” Like clockwork, the sensation of butterflies in his stomach bubbled up. It was ridiculous how easy it was for him to make Magnus’ insides feel molten from just a simple compliment. The crux of it was the sheer sincerity that cut straight through to the bone; he had never been around anyone as genuine to a fault as Alec Lightwood. Usually Magnus received even the highest praises with seamless grace and aplomb, but when it came to Alec, he was yet to make it through without being disarmed by pure saccharinity.

“You’re talking to a prince of hell, Alexander,” Magnus pointed out, adding a faux-solemn eyebrow raise for punctuation. “Flattery is a closely monitored currency, you know.”

Lowering his tone of voice to playful solemnity, Alec answered “I have tremendous respect for the prince of Edom.”

After summoning them both freshly brewed coffee and pastries for breakfast in bed that they shared between soft touches and the occasional kiss, the two got dressed for the day and went to the main chamber where Magnus’ throne stood proudly as the focal point in the room.

As soon as they set foot inside, however, Magnus held out a hand to stop Alec from moving past him. “Something’s wrong,” he murmured. There was something in the air that was thick and cloying, and unmistakably dark. Moving further into the room, Magnus held his hands out and let his magic course through his hands to probe the atmosphere carefully. His magic started to darken and turn red the closer he got to the archway leading outside onto the barren terrain, sparking occasionally in defense.

When a dark mass steeped in demon ichor came into view, Magnus lowered his hands and bent down to inspect it. “Fuck.” They were hearts—hearts of his father’s Asmodei that had been removed while they were still alive given the amount of black, viscous blood mixed in with the ichor. A quick inspection determined the magic residue belonged to Lilith; she was sending a message.

“What is that?” Alec asked from behind him, the knife he kept hidden in his boot held loosely in hand.

A slow exhale left Magnus’ lips as he stood back up, encasing the hearts in a sheath of magic to protect them. “They’re Asmodei hearts. Lilith is making her position clear.”

Alec lowered his knife to his side, a look of disgust warping his features. “Lilith did that? Why would she kill her own creatures?”

“They’re not hers; Edomei are lesser demons born of Edom and its magic but claiming no one master, whereas Asmodei are my father’s distinct creation that exist as a direct result of his power. He made them with a piece of his own…soul, if you can call it that, bestowing this brand on them.” Magnus rotated his wrist slowly to turn the hearts until the faint yet unmistakable etching was clear on the organ. “They were tied directly to him, and when he died, they became weaker, more vulnerable. Lilith knows that kind of magic, knows that Asmodeus would use that kind of binding magic. I’m sure she left their carcasses as the final punctuation to her threat as well.”

The bodies were indeed left nearby, horribly mangled. They were torn apart from the inside, meaning that a powerful and dark curse was what killed them. 

Alec discreetly moved to cover his nose at the stench of decay, turning his face away from them. “What do you want to do with them?”

The three Asmodei had been dead for a few days by Magnus’ calculations, hardly any magic essence left. Given the bond to Asmodeus’ blood, however, it could be possible that he could restore them, garner their loyalty by proxy. “I might be able to bring them back,” he mused aloud, looking over at Alec. “There’s hardly any life left in them but I think it’s just enough that I might be able to manage a miracle.” A small smile made the corner of his lip twitch. “If you pardon the blasphemy.”

A surprised sound of amusement from Alec made the smile grow a bit more. “What can I do?” he asked.

“Keep your blade out.” Turning his back to Alec, Magnus took a step closer to the bodies. “If this goes badly, we’ll have to take them down. Fast.”

“How bad is bad?”

“Let’s not tempt fate.” With that, he raised his hands up to his chest, palms facing down, and closed his eyes.

This was not only old magic, but dark and fragile. The connection he would be forging would be tenuous at best, but he had to try. Beginning to speak in an ancient demonic language, he summoned his magic to his hands. When he reopened his eyes, the organs and tissues were knitting back together. Pulling a knife from his pocket as he continued his recitation, Magnus ran the blade across the center of his palm to draw a steady stream of blood. In order to restore the Asmodei, they would require a master to be bound to. As the blood dripped down the side of his hand when he made a fist, he guided it onto the hearts to form the pact between them. It was no promise that they would submit to him as they had to Asmodeus, though. Carefully, Magnus restored the hearts to the bodies, his incantation reaching its conclusion. The sudden silence felt loud in his ears, like an odd kind of pressure. Slowly he breathed life back into each Asmodei, pale red magic that flowed from his lips, then got to his feet and backed up a few paces.

It took a moment or two before anything happened, but slowly, the bodies began to reanimate with little jerks and twitches of wings and talons and eyes. It was the strangest thing to watch, particularly as they scrambled to stand and spread their leathery wings. The largest one stood in front of the other two and looked at Magnus with its large black eyes, huffing through its nose in disorientation. The smaller two moved into defensive positions with their wings flexed and their mouths open to release quiet hisses and warning squawks.

“Holy shit,” Alec breathed. “You fucking did it, Magnus.”

Magnus snorted halfheartedly, eyes trained on the Asmodei. “You say that as if you’re surprised.” He dropped the glamour from his eyes, showing what he shared most prominently with his father.

The Asmodei responded immediately, bowing their heads low, eyes cast down.

“ _Your creator was destroyed_ ,” Magnus began in the ancient language of Edom. Very few knew of the language’s existence at all, and only a number of them could even speak it, but in the time he had spent with Asmodeus as a child, he studied it tirelessly with a determination to master it. He had never been more grateful for his stubborn tenacity as he was in this moment. “ _I am his son, his prince; the new sovereign of Edom. You will be my guardians, my companions in battle, and I will protect you with the blood covenant we are bound by_.”

One of the smaller two Asmodei pushed its way between the others to approach Magnus. It gave him a look of resolution followed by a movement he could only describe as a nod. “ _You will be called_ Setia. _Faithful_. _For your loyalty._ ”

The largest one made a discontented sound, and Magnus turned his attention to it. “Tegas— _bold_. _You are the one who leads the charge.”_ After a moment of holding still, it pressed its wings back and bowed.

The last Asmodei was the most guarded, its eyes exceptionally cold. “ _The vigilant one…_ Waspada. _You will defend wisely_.”

“ _Now take your places_.” Magnus commanded softly, his magic weaving between his fingers and around his hands. Directing it upwards, he sent a pulse that shook the foundation of the building and the Asmodei took off after it with triumphant shrieks.

Turning around to look at Alec, he saw the surprise and awe that still made magic seem new and exciting for Magnus even after all these centuries. “What did you say to them?” Alec asked, putting his blade away.

“Just a little introduction.” Alec’s eyebrows were framed by apprehensive creases as he looked up at the smoky red sky. The Asmodei’s stark black bodies stood out sharply. “Don’t worry angel,” Magnus assured him, sensing his trepidation. “They won’t hurt you; they would die to protect me, and they will extend the same care to anyone I hold dear.”

“That’s still not quite a comforting thought, Magnus. The last time I was that close to one, they almost killed you, me, and Isabelle.”

Reaching for his hand, he loosely laced their fingers and squeezed. “It’s a brave new world here.” Magnus looked back up at the Asmodei gliding through the ashy atmosphere with ease.

_Let them be a beacon_ , he thought to himself. _A sign that Magnus Bane is not fortune’s favor._ This was the first true demonstration of his power for all of Edom to see; let it be known that Lilith’s challenge was met and overturned. However, the war was only just beginning—and he had just established himself as a formidable opponent.

“Alexander, I need to call on an acquaintance of mine. I leave my realm in your capable hands.” They shared a kiss that dragged on for a few indulgent seconds before Magnus summoned a portal with a few words in Chthonic. It was more chaotic than the kind of portal that opened between Magnus’ loft and his favorite pizzeria, for example. Rather than swirls of gold-tinted magic, it was black and smoky with accents of dark red from the ash that got caught up inside.

When he stepped through it, he landed in a cloud of filmy dust and loose dirt that already began to stick to his clothes. A simple half gesture with his hand calmed the atmosphere around him, settling at his feet, and he strode forward across the open plains laid out before him. Everything was reduced to muted monochrome shades of tan, brown, and black. It had been long enough since his last visit to Dudael that Magnus had forgotten just how different it was from any place he’d ever called home.

“Nephew, what a surprise.”

Turning towards the voice behind him, Magnus stopped in his tracks and moved slowly to face Azazel. “I hope I’m not intruding; in light of your banishment, this was the only way I could get in contact.” He offered a wry smile as he nonetheless held out his hand as a proverbial olive branch.

“Thanks to your meddlesome pet angel,” Azazel responded dryly, straightening the lapels of his jacket to artfully dismiss Magnus’ gesture. “What are you doing here, Magnus?”

“Asmodeus is dead.”

Astonishment cracked through the disinterested set to his features and it gave Magnus a smug kind of satisfaction to see.

“I think this is a conversation that deserves a drink.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's been a hot second since i updated, and i was hoping it would be a little easier to keep up with, but school started and i've been really discombobulated so this chapter is a bit short. even if it takes awhile to update, i have every intention of continuing! if you like live tweeting your read through, you can use #toacoffic to share your thoughts!

“You must have graduated to the hard stuff by now, little prince.” Azazel curled the fingers of his right hand in towards his palm, summoning a tall decanter of dark amber liquid and two old lowball glasses. “While I was sightseeing, one of the things I missed most was my alcohol. Even the strongest mundane swill was more innocuous than water for someone like me. You’re more susceptible, nephew, but I’m sure you agree.” He poured generous amounts into both glasses then pushed one towards Magnus.

He took it and raised it up in toast before swallowing half of it down. “I do fine,” he replied. “So, I’m here to talk about my father.”

Azazel laughed humorlessly. “I assure you, I had nothing to do with my brother’s death. We’re not exactly beacons of brother love, as you can see.” He spread his arms out, gesturing to the palace room they were seated in. “Edom was never my home.”

Where Edom was barren, desolate red and in a perpetual state of somewhere on the spectrum of the state of decay, even within the royal confines, Dudael’s citadel was sharp, polished black. The throne was made of ornate black opal and the floors and walls were a reflective black marble with gold flecks scattered about. In the corner where they sat was a vast bleached tabletop fit into the corner where the wall of alcohol and old tomes were mounted on shelves. The only light around them came from mounted glass pieces that contained a singular burning flame like a candle without a wick or body.

“I know you didn’t kill Asmodeus,” Magnus said instead, leaning closer to him across the tabletop of the desk he sat behind. “I did.”

Azazel’s eyebrows shot up, and his mouth dropped open slightly in surprise, his drink frozen halfway to his lips. “ _You_ killed him? A prince of hell, meeting his untimely demise at the hands of his son… What a disappointment to the great legacy. Well,” he mused, recovering his aloof expression and taking his whole glass down in one swallow, “you were always my favorite of my brother’s offspring, so I suppose I can’t hold it against you. Besides, he was a real bastard. I’m curious though, what did he did to deserve to meet his end by patricide?”

“He threatened my people, my city. My world,” Magnus spoke crisply, lifting his chin slightly. “There were far too many lives in the balance for a less permanent solution.”

A quiet snort made him grit his teeth. “Your world… I’ve never understood your fondness for life with mortals. And I understand even less your affinity for the angel boy. I doubt I ever will. But we all have our little diversions, don’t we, nephew?”

Rolling his eyes with a flair of dramatics, Magnus pressed his hands to the tabletop with an air of finality. “That’s not what I’m here for, Azazel. With Asmodeus deceased, the throne comes to me. There are certain parties, however, that would like to see our bloodline unseated. Lilith, primarily.”

“So, you’re asking me to help you destroy her?”

“I’m asking where your loyalty will lie when battle lines are drawn.”

Unsurprisingly, he took his time contemplating the question posed, pouring himself another drink and taking his time to polish it off. “Asmodeus was my brother, and I enforced a positive relationship between Edom of Dudael because of that. You rightfully ascended, and that’s what he wanted. Edom is part of you, no matter what you tell yourself to be true, and you are part of it. It’s duly yours now, as it should be.”

“She wants a war,” Magnus said, in lieu of expressing his gratitude. It didn’t do any good to indulge in emotions with people like his father, his uncle. It was too much humanity to credit them with. “And she’s going to do whatever it takes to have her chance to rule.”

“She’s never been content to be second to Asmodeus in Edom. She hated that it was his realm and she was reduced to little more than a guest. There was a time when she was a fan of yours, you know.” Azazel’s wrist turned lazily, an orange glow alight on his fingertips. “She was glad that you wouldn’t take your place at his side because it gave her better leverage against him. I assume that trying multiple times to thwart her plans and kill her… _child_ changed that, of course.”

The small smile that spread across Magnus’ lips was finally genuine when he replied, “Well, she never knew me at all, so that was her mistake.”

Azazel inclined his head slightly, looking Magnus over with a pleased kind of interest. “You’ve grown up, even since last I saw you. Tenacious was certainly the right word to use for you then, but even more so now, I think. No hard feelings about that little run-in with your mortals. The pentagram was impressive, and there aren’t any other warlocks that could hold me for that long.”

“We don’t show affection for each other in this family.” Magnus stood up and straightened his waistcoat. “Let’s not start lying about it now.”

“I do hope you understand the seriousness of this battle you’re instigating, Magnus,” Azazel warned instead, following Magnus as he moved towards the portal back to Edom he summoned. “It will become war soon. And I hope you’re prepared for that.”

A derisive snort was the first response Magnus offered. “A lesson in altruism from a Prince of Hell?”

“Get out,” Azazel ordered with a long-suffering sigh, though it wasn’t cold or threatening.

He stepped closer to the vacuum of magic, ready to welcome him in, but looked over his shoulder one last time. “Thank you, uncle.” When he turned back, his magic enveloped him and sent him through the realms back to Edom, to Alexander.

And what a sight to behold to step through into the throne room to see his lover perched regally on his throne. He looked so at home there, and the delicate crown nestled in his hair belonged there like an inevitability.

“Your highness, prince regent,” he greeted lowly, striding through the entrance hall to him and lowering himself onto one knee before him.

“Stop,” Alec chuckled, a flush of happiness rising on his cheeks. He left the throne and all its ornateness to kneel with Magnus on the cold marble floor. “How did things go over with Azazel? What did he say?”

“I think I may have underestimated the man, and believe me that shocks me to my core.” Magnus pulled them both to their feet. “He’s sworn to me that if it comes to a battle for the throne, he stands with me. And that’s the best outcome I could have hoped for.”

A loud screech from one of the Asmodei cut through the air and silenced the two of them. “Did something happen while I was away?” he inquired turning to look out the archway.

A swooping shadow of wings cast darkness over them, making the temperature drop noticeably. He followed it out onto the barrens, and looked up at the crimson sky. Tegas was hovering above them, screeching less insistently but with the same degree of distress.

“A few lesser demons came to tell me that they found slayed bodies of a few others,” Alec explained, eyes on the Asmodei. “They thought it was Lilith’s doing, but they didn’t know why. I wanted to wait for you to get back before I did anything.”

“Well, I think the time has come to see this with my own eyes.” Magnus held his hand up to Tegas in a calming gesture. It worked immediately, the screeching quieting as they hovered lower, closer to him. “ _What have you seen_?” He asked in Edom’s ancient tongue. “ _Let me look_.” Uttering a quiet incantation, Magnus’ head fell back slightly and his eyes rolled back in his head. Blurred images swept past him faster than he could grab them, initially. Forcing them to slow and become organize, he was able to make sense of the pieces—mangled bodies with large cuts down the center of their chests, the wild exclamations of lesser demons finding their brethren. Suddenly his head was thrown back with the force of the spell breaking, and his eyes focuses on Tegas. “ _Thank you_.”

A comforting hand was placed on his upper arm, squeezing just enough to gain his attention. “What did you see, Magnus?”

“I know where the bodies are.” He turned to look at Alec.

They were stashed in a little cove of Edom rock along the outskirts of the royals’ terrain, looking just as they had in Magnus’ vision: brutally broken apart with large cuts down their chests.

Alec was quiet as he surveyed the corpses, bending down to inspect the remains. This was familiar territory for him in a way, Magnus assumed. He’d observed him do the same thing back home—back in New York during patrol. He would carefully inspect the remains and puzzle about the cause with his mind already generating plausible theories. “What do you think did this?”

“Well,” Magnus circled the bodies slowly, “they are this realm’s lesser demons, the bottom of the totem pole, so to speak, and it’s not uncommon for there to be skirmishes that end in fatality among them.”

“Do you think that’s all that this is?” The tone of Alec’s voice made his doubt clear.

“I think this something to keep an eye on. Regime changes are often catalysts for uprisings and bad behavior. And we both know Lilith isn’t the only one who is less than thrilled with my ascension.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> come find me on [tumblr](http://royaltybane.tumblr.com) and [twitter](https://twitter.com/dia__bee)

**Author's Note:**

> come find me on [tumblr](http://royaltybane.tumblr.com) and [twitter](https://twitter.com/dia__bee)


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